Chapter 12

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I turned instinctively—and froze.

“I asked what you’re doing.”

Damian stood at the entrance of the annex, his expression openly hostile.

How long had he been there?

Cold sweat slid down my back.

I quickly shifted, hiding my bandaged arm behind me.

“It’s nothing.”

“It is something for Her Highness the Princess to be wandering here. The guest quarters are in the main building. This is the annex.”

His sharp tone cut through the air.

The calm I had felt moments ago evaporated.

Of all times to encounter him—

It was common knowledge throughout the Empire that the Carter heir despised the princess.

Even in my previous life, after I had cornered the ducal house and pushed them toward ruin, Damian had cursed the imperial family until the very end.

Back then, I believed I had won.

In truth, I had been the one who lost.

His gaze shifted past my shoulder.

His expression darkened instantly.

“Don’t misunderstand. I only came here because—”

Before I could finish, Damian strode forward and grabbed my arm.

The injured one.

Pain flared beneath the bandages.

“Ah—!”

“Where did you go?” he demanded. “Do you even understand what room that is?”

His green eyes burned.

I tried to pull free.

He didn’t budge.

Why is he so strong?

I twisted desperately.

The wound throbbed violently, threatening to reopen.

“You’ve fallen so low now, sneaking around the estate like a rat.”

With a sneer, he released me abruptly.

I clutched my arm.

It pulsed painfully.

There was likely blood seeping through again.

But I couldn’t show it.

“That room is not for someone like you.”

“I didn’t enter it on purpose.”

“Of course not. When has anything ever been intentional with you, Your Highness?”

The sarcasm struck harder than the grip.

Endure it. Responding will only worsen it.

If I were still the princess in the palace, I would have had dozens of ways to silence him.

But here—

I was tolerated, not welcomed.

“I was looking for the apothecary. And I am here with your father’s permission.”

“Ah. A guest.”

He lowered his head slightly and let out a humorless laugh.

“Since you mentioned it, let’s make something clear.”

He leaned down until we were eye level.

“Whatever scheme you’re plotting, behave yourself. I won’t pretend not to see it like my father.”

I met his gaze steadily.

His killing intent was not concealed in the slightest.

“Don’t ever step into my sister’s room again.”

The words struck like a blade.

“That is not a place for someone born of the corrupt imperial line. Do you understand?”

I swallowed.

No one hated the imperial family more than Damian.

My sister’s room.

The words echoed inside me.

Sister.

Once, I might have been that.

Now, I was only the daughter of the man who stole her.

“Leave,” he said coldly. “Before I begin suspecting you further.”

He stepped aside.

I walked past him without protest.

Avoid him for now.

My arm throbbed beneath my sleeve.

I never even found the apothecary.

After that encounter, I stayed in my room as much as possible.

Not because I was afraid.

But because facing him felt… complicated.

In my previous life, I had viewed Damian solely as an enemy.

Now—

It wasn’t so simple.

The only time I left was to prepare lunch.

Each day, I slipped into the kitchen with Mia.

Every dish carefully chosen to detoxify miasma.

At first, I fumbled.

Gradually, I improved.

Well—Mia still did most of the actual work.

Thankfully, Carlos continued to accept the meals, even if his expression remained unreadable.

That alone felt like progress.

As usual, I knocked on the office door.

“I’m coming in.”

Carlos sat at his desk, reviewing documents as always.

I placed the tray down.

“Today it’s carrot and kale detox juice, and herb sandwiches.”

Silence.

Familiar silence.

I adjusted the tray and prepared to leave—

Then Carlos looked up.

“Damian will accompany you to the west, Princess.”

“…What?”

I turned toward him.

“What do you mean?”

“You requested transportation and an escort.”

His tone was almost indifferent.

Yes, I had asked for transport and protection.

But I meant a few knights—not Damian.

Is he trying to suffocate me before we even reach the west?

“My lord, isn’t the heir still underage?”

“Is that a problem?”

“It’s not that…”

What was I supposed to say?

I couldn’t admit I didn’t want him.

But agreeing meant days of travel together.

Just as I struggled to respond—

The office door opened behind me.

“You called, Father?”

Damian stepped inside.

His eyes landed on me.

They turned instantly cold.

“What are you looking at?”

…This is bad.